


A General Introduction

by shadowmaat



Series: A Bounty of Brothers [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/pseuds/shadowmaat
Summary: Surge Squad is all that's left of the 404th Battalion. They took in the orphaned Boba Fett on the sands of Geonosis, but can they find a Jedi willing to take them on? The Nautolan Knight Issa Mar may provide the answer.





	A General Introduction

Jedi Knight Issa Mar strode through the Temple’s halls on autopilot. She’d just come from lunch with her former Master Plo Koon and the “gift” he’d given her was both unexpected and perplexing.

What, exactly, was she supposed to do with a squad of clones? A squad “and one extra.” The bangle-bedecked ribbons on her _ahwey_ rustled as she shook her head. She had a feeling that the _extra_ was why he’d tapped her for this rather than dumping it on the High Council.

“I work better on my own, Master, you know that,” she’d said, jamming half a sweetcake in her mouth.

“Yes, I believe you tried to convince me of that shortly after your first Master died.” He’d pushed a cup of diced fruit closer to her tray and tapped her spoon with one clawed finger. “I didn’t believe you then and I don’t believe you now. Besides,” he’d added, his vocoder buzzing with a sigh. “This is a special case.”

She’d studied the datapad he’d given her containing the files for “Surge Squad,” a tiny branch of the 404th battalion… the _only_ surviving branch, in fact. The news coming back from Geonosis had been grim and this brought it home even more. That’s when he’d showed her the last file, complete with a blurry candid shot of a glowering youngling with a mop of black hair surrounded by armored legs.

He’d kept talking, explaining Boba’s situation and why it might present a problem to the Council along with the knowledge that Surge Squad would undoubtedly be split up and sent to various other groups. Issa had already made her decision, though; as soon as she’d seen the casualty list for the 404th, she’d known. Boba’s presence was simply the exclamation point on the sentence.

Which was why she was now heading to the temporary barracks that housed the Jedi’s new army. She had a lot of opinions about that and about the Jedi’s involvement in an _actual war_ , but for the moment she was setting that aside in favor of something more important. The few clones she saw seemed startled by her appearance. A few of them even saluted her. She smiled and greeted them and kept moving. Being called “General” was another thing that made her uncomfortable and was another thing she was choosing to set aside. For the moment.

At last she reached the secluded wing where Plo had chosen to put Surge Squad. They’d been separated from the others in hopes of avoiding any rumors of Boba’s presence. Issa slowed as she approached the open doors.

“CT-2211, sometimes known as Lev,” a raspy voice said.

“Was he the one with that stabby flute thing?” A similar voice asked.

“It was a Mandalorian bes’bev, Mimic,” a third voice said. “One of the trainers gave it to him.”

“He was good at it,” Mimic said. “I heard him once. Kinda…”

There was a pause and Issa felt her _ahwey_ tingle as a mournful hooting drifted out of the room. She stepped a little closer, peering around the door.

Five clones and a youngling were standing in a loose circle. The clones were wearing armor, sans their helmets. One of them was whistling, which seemed to be the source of the noise.

“He’ll be missed,” said the one with the raspy voice. He had a commander’s pauldron and was consulting a datapad. Issa knew it must be Smokey, though he was standing in a way that hid the damaged side of his face.

“And finally…” Smokey sighed. “Jango Fett. Without him, none of us would be here.”

They touched their fists to their chests. Except the boy, Boba. He folded his arms over his chest and scowled at the floor.

 _“Buir,”_ he muttered.

 _“Ni partayli, gar darasuum,”_ Smokey said.

 _“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la,”_ the others intoned. One of them, whose hair was carved in a blotchy pattern, reached out to rub Boba’s back.

Feeling intrusive, she knocked on the open door. The troopers immediately shot to attention, saluting her even as they shielded Boba from view. She felt a spike of fear go through the Force before disappearing. She offered them her best smile.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” she said, staying in the doorway. “I thought I should introduce myself. I’m Knight Issa Mar and Master Plo sent me here to… look after you, I suppose.”

Commander Smokey was the first to break rank, lowering his hand and tilting his head to get a better look at her.

“You’ll be our General, sir?”

She managed not to grimace. _General._  There were so many implications behind the word, but the missive from the High Council made it clear that yes, the Jedi were indeed now generals in a war that no one wanted.

“Yes, I suppose I will.” She debated correcting him on the _sir_ , but decided it didn’t really matter; sir or ma’am, either was fine with her. “May I come in?”

Smokey blinked at her and she saw surprise reflected on the faces of the others as well.

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”

He gestured and she entered, taking in the meager surroundings. Three sets of bunk beds had been crammed into what was usually a living area. She could see doors leading off to what were likely a Master’s and Padawan’s rooms, another that she assumed was the ‘fresher, and a tiny, abandoned kitchen area hidden by the bunks. The air smelled musty with disuse and full of warm humans.

“Hello,” she said, renewing her smile. “Why don’t you all introduce yourselves for me? And,” she added, remembering something Plo had told her, “if you have names of your own I’d be happy to use them.”

Smokey’s expression didn’t even flicker as he rattled off his designation and name, but behind him she could see the tension going out of someone’s shoulders. That so basic a courtesy was cause for concern was disheartening, but she filed that away with a list of other things to consider and listened attentively as the troopers introduced themselves.

Thumper introduced himself as the team’s munitions expert. His hair was long enough that he had to keep brushing it out of his eyes, though she wondered if part of it was a nervous habit. She could see part of a tattoo snaking its way up his neck, but the armor covered too much for her to identify it.

Stitch was their medic and had the medcorp symbol tattooed on the right side of his jaw. His hair was shaved down to fuzz with lines cut into it that reminded her of anatomy lessons. Skull plates, maybe?

“You’re Nautolan, right?” Stitch asked, earning a glare from Smokey. “Is there anything about your physiology I should know? Different organ placement? Dietary needs? Hazardous drug interactions?”

Issa laughed. “I think our organs are mostly in the same place, though we do have some extras.” She reached up to indicate the gill slits on her foremost _ahwey_. “I don’t have any allergies, but if you want a more comprehensive guide I’ll see if Healer Che can forward you the relevant information.”

“I’d appreciate that, sir.”

She caught the slight hesitation. “Sir is fine,” she said. “Or General, I suppose. She/her for pronouns, though if anyone makes a mistake that’s fine. Nautolan females aren’t quite as obvious about it as humans.”

Well, she certainly had their attention, now. “If, uh, any of you have pronouns I should know about, let me know and I’ll be sure to use them.”

The whistler she’d heard when she first arrived cleared his throat.

“Uh, he/him works just fine for me, sir,” he said, reaching up to pat the tiny bun of hair on the back of his head. “I’m CT-4494. Mimic. I specialize in mechanical and electronic systems. Databanks, ship systems, droids, you name it.”

Issa translated that to mean “slicer” and hoped she’d get a chance to introduce him to her friend Zip at some point. Zip was a Selonian who lived up to his nickname, both on his feet and when slicing into computer systems. He was always thrilled to meet more “technology experts.”

Tooka was next. He was the trooper with the marbling shaved into the sides of his head; the one who’d relaxed when she’d asked for their names. He told her he was a sniper and then blurted out a question that had clearly been weighing on him.

“So we’re not gonna be split up, then?”

“Absolutely not,” she said, feeling a previously unnoticed sense of tension fade from the room. “Although I feel it’s only fair to warn you that I’m not likely to ever be on the front lines of the fighting. I don’t follow a traditional path among the Jedi, so my missions tend to be a little more… eclectic.” She tried to gauge their reactions before continuing. “It’s why having such a small team works better for me. And I hope it will work for you, too. All six of you.”

The troopers stiffened, but moved aside. All but Tooka, who stood directly in front of the lower bunk where Boba was now sitting. Smiling, she rested a hand on his shoulder. She could feel a strong sense of protectiveness radiating off of him and loved him a little for it.

Sighing, Tooka lowered his gaze and stepped aside to reveal the baleful glare of a much younger clone.

“You must be Boba Fett.” She knelt, holding out her hand. He ignored it. “I’m Issa and I’m honored to have you on my team.”

More silence from Boba.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Smokey said. “He’s still a bit-”

“I don’t have to take orders from a kriffing Jedi!” Boba curled his lips, giving the distinct impression he wanted to spit on her.

“Boba!” Tooka hissed.

“I understand,” Issa said, standing to brush the wrinkles out of her robe. “I lost my first Master a few years into my padawanship. I imagine losing a father is even harder.” She dipped her head in acknowledgement of Boba. “It’s okay to grieve after what you’ve been through, but I hope someday we might be able to talk.

More silent glaring. She shrugged and turned her attention back to the troopers, overriding their worried looks by getting right to business.

“There’s a situation I’ve been meaning to investigate on Barrenal. I need to get in touch with a contact of mine about transport, but if she’s around it should be an easy go.” She chuckled. “Well, as easy as traveling with Trix ever is, but I’ll send you the initial details tonight and then perhaps we can meet in the morning to work out the details?”

“Whatever you think is best, General,” Smokey said, hefting his datapad again.

“The point is to work out what we think is best,” she said, pulling her own datapad from a hidden pocket. “But we can work on that tomorrow as well.”

She exchanged comm codes with all of them, did her best to exude confidence and reassurance, and then headed back the way she’d come.

All in all it hadn’t been a disastrous first meeting and she liked the vibe she got from them, both as a team and individually. Even Boba, for all his prickliness, had an aura of potential buried under all the anger and pain.

Now all she had to do was see if Trix was on-planet and available. And then hope that the cargo pilot didn’t scare her squad back into the main army. Everything was bound to work out. Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Buir- Father  
> Ni partayli, gar darasuum- "I remember you, so you are eternal." Part of the Mandalorian daily remembrance ritual.  
> Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la- "Not gone, merely marching far away."


End file.
